


Mother Dearest

by ComaGayby



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gothic, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, also im bad at writing in bulk, chapter length is inconsistent af, dont want too much pointless filler, gotta get that character dev, its gonna get dark but rn its just mostly gay and cute in the context of an abusive household, tags will be updated accordingly as i write further!, theyre on the shorter side but its mainly a stylistic thing, this is hopefully gonna be my gothic horror magnum opus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22279195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComaGayby/pseuds/ComaGayby
Summary: Being a recollection of Adora's experiences as a ward of a certain Ms. Weaver.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 30





	1. A Birthday

We lived in a house on a steep, muddy hill. 

Although it must have been quite handsome in its time, our ageing Queen Anne looked positively miserable from the exterior, if not quite as much so on the interior. At some point, the house had been painted firetruck red, but the hue had faded over the years to a sickly salmon. A number of the exterior walls were peeling (this was also true of the interior, although the offending sections of wallpaper had been covered up with paintings and cross-stiches.) Mother's gaudy decor and consistent disinterest in keeping clean did not particularly help. 

My fellow ward, Catra, found it suffocating. 

I was the first to be adopted, and Mother treated me accordingly. Catra, meanwhile? The fact that she referred to Mother merely as 'Ms. Weaver' was telling. 

This particular afternoon, I was struggling, and failing, to attempt to bake a cake from scratch. Being familiar with the process would only have helped so much - half of our lights were burned out, and the others were inky with grime, leaving only a smattering of orange light not unlike twilight. I would have opened the windows, but the cold front moving through made this impractical at best. I loved my fellow ward dearly, but braving below-freezing temperatures for the sake of a marginal amount of light, filtered through thick clouds, seemed profoundly unhelpful. 

Being blessed physically, it turned out, was of minimal help when it came to baking, and my clumsiness (a defining trait, according to Catra,) only made the ordeal more difficult. After a number of hours spent attempting to decipher Mother's ancient cookbook under what light was available, I finally arrived at an approximation of what a cake was supposed to look like. Most of my time had been spent cleaning up messes, both as a natural result of cooking, and as a result of my own ungainly hands - Mother was unconcerned with messes if they were produced by her hands, but found messes produced by her wards profoundly _intolerable_ \- but this usage of my time was negligible compared to Catra's smile. 

I knew where to find her - she had been at home the whole time, but seldom left her favorite spots. 

I carefully ascended the stairs of our home's turret - the structural integrity of the stairs was always in doubt, and destroying the cake, and possibly injuring myself, by breaking a loose floorboard would be the worst gift I could give Catra. 

I found her curled up in the windowsill, staring at me with a smirk on her face, buried under a pile of blankets. "Your steps really aren't as quiet as you think they are, you know." 

I couldn't help beaming at her. "Happy birthday, Catra." 

The cake looked shambolic - the frosting was uneven, and the cake itself had a profound lean, but if Catra was disappointed, her face didn't show it. I would risk punishment by Mother every day if I could make her face light up like this just one more time. 

She met my eyes, her own sparkling. "You did this yourself?"

I mumbled my affirmation, looking away awkwardly. I had never been comfortable receiving praise. 

"You dummy. You know what _she_ would have done if she found out."

"It wouldn't have been nearly as bad if she caught you breaking the rules.."

Almost immediately I regretted my words, and Catra was unable to keep the venom from seeping into her voice as she replied - "don't fucking remind me, Adora." 

Her glare softened after seeing the crestfallen look on my face, and she reached out to take my hand. "Hey. I'm sorry. It's not your fault."  
  
"Catra, it was MY fault for saying something so dumb! I just.. I just don't understand why she's so cruel to you.." I stammered back. 

"Because I'm not you," she muttered. "Or _sparkles._ Because I'm _unwanted_." 

I sat down next to her, gently placing the cake on the floor, and touching her arm softly. "Don't say that, please," I whispered. "That's just what she believes. She's so wrong. And Glimmer really isn't that bad, you know. She didn't ask to be favored either." 

Glimmer was another of Mother's wards, and yet another that she prioritized over Catra. The two had bad blood, to say the least. I wasn't entirely sure why I was spared the full fury of Catra's jealousy, despite being just as favored, if not more. It wouldn't have been quite out of character for Catra to loathe her entirely based on the perceived gaudiness of her name. 

I never wasted time pondering this. Catra loved me, and I loved her, and that was more than enough to make me happy. 

She just huffed.

"Happy birthday, Catra," I said to her through a wistful smile. "Just another year and we can finally.. what was it - join the circus, right?" 

"Nah, fuck that. You're not _THAT_ strong; and besides, its the 20th century - are there really still people impressed by heterochromia?"

We broke into fits of giggles. It was one of the happier days of my life.

* * *

I had never bothered to ponder how extraordinarily draconian Mother's prohibition of Catra's birthday was. Having grown up in a spartan state orphanage, seemingly irrational rules set by my superiors were of little concern to me. Life was harsh, it had always been and would always be, and my role was to do what I was told and stay quiet about it. 

Despite this, the unfairness with which Mother treated Catra always made me feel rather sick. I could handle her regimen, her overbearing nature, but Catra was not me. That was the root of the problem - Mother wished so, so badly that she was. 

It was hard not to feel the sickly rush of melancholia whenever I found myself gazing at Catra's unruly mane, tinted auburn by the light - how could I see someone so evidently beautiful and worthy of love, but find myself arguing with a world that vehemently disagreed?

She truly was divine. Moonlight flickered over her sleeping face, and I smiled at the frosting she hadn't bothered to clean off. She was vivacious; our home was not. I felt sure that in her absence, my desire to leave home would have dissipated entirely. Mother always said that my obedience was my most valuable trait, in those words. 

I was clueless as to how she could comfortably sleep in the windowsill, day after day, with only a few fraying blankets. I was lying prone on the floor, arms folded behind my back, gazing at the moonlight dancing upon the ceiling, torn into an erratic, flickering mess by whatever clouds insisted on spoiling our nighttime light. 

I felt serene. Feeling calm and thoughtless has always made me fretful; those are feelings indicative of _irresponsibility_ \- but in that moment, I was too mindlessly content to let it get to me. I could worry about making the house presentable for Mother in the morning. _A problem for future Catra and Adora,_ Catra would say. I smiled until my cheeks began to ache. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here goes my attempt at something longer than a one-shot oh boy 
> 
> yes its very much inspired by shirley jackson and vc andrews yes i am a hack, i can have little a she-ra gothic horror au ok


	2. Mother Returns

I stood at the doorway expectantly, my hands clasped together. I was wearing a very prim and proper blouse, and despite my together appearance, I was bouncing nervously on the soles of my feet. Mother was frigid in the best of circumstances, yes, but even so, I was almost certainly overdoing my good daughter routine. Still, I knew she appreciated my enthusiasm rather than being turned off by it - I was sure she found it a refreshing change of pace compared to the thoroughly disinterested attitude of Catra. I could hear her snickering behind me, and made a point of ignoring that. Of course I preferred Catra over Mother - she was an actually pleasant person - but Catra could not bestow upon me the honor of being a good daughter. Of being helpful, and obedient, and disciplined. _Useful._

So I blinded myself to the scornful attitude of my peers - since when was being overprepared something to laugh at, anyway? I could imagine the scene regardless, anyway - Catra and Glimmer staring daggers at eachother, Lonnie - a well-built and fairly harsh spoken girl - glaring at everyone in general, and Rogelio, a quiet but physically imposing boy, sitting in the corner reading. I listened as Mother's car door slammed shut, and she began the somewhat arduous walk up the hill (though it was traversable on foot, attempting to drive a car up it was ill advised.)

Finally, she knocked sharply, and I nearly tripped over myself to let her in. 

Mother was.. _memorable_ in appearance, to say the least. Publicly, she always wore a veil over her mouth, and this included at home - but as her wards, we had inevitably snuck a peek or two. Catra and I had caught a glance when Mother had left the door to her room ajar - and she went without dinner for a week. I was merely asked to reassure Mother that her appearance would have no bearing on how I think of her, and I made sure to assuage her fears. She had no such discussion with Catra, but the murderous glares she shot her for the months following were more than enough to get the point across. 

Aside from her most obvious accouterment, her skin was pale, almost ashy (Catra would, behind her back of course, frequently refer to her as a ghoul,) and her facial features had a sort of sharpness about them. Her hair was inky black and long. She typically wore long, robelike dresses, usually burgundy. Once Catra had been slapped for calling it a muumuu to Mother's face. She wore a garnet gemstone around her neck. Besides her veil, the standout feature of her face was her eyes, capable of conveying such sternness and gravity - when the subject of Mother's glare, even Catra would stop in her tracks. When looking at me, they became a sort of affectionate, but always in a patronizing way, as though I was merely her favorite dog and she appreciated my services. But I knew she was just bad at expressing love. It was the cooing tone in her voice that told me I was truly precious to her. 

With just her presence, Mother commanded respect. 

She didn't smile at me (although her mouth was covered, I was sure of this,) but her voice did carry a honeyed undercurrent. "Adora, dear, will you be a darling and hang my coat up?" (She always placed more stress on the 'o' in my name, with an excess of vocal fry.)

I did so promptly, and then stood in place awkwardly. 

She laughed, a throaty chuckle, almost a cackle. "Adora, you mustn't do all the housework; why else would I be keeping the others around?" 

If it was intended as a joke, it fell flat, and I could feel the others' stares on my neck.

Mother merely tutted. "You children have nothing even resembling manners. I assume the smell wafting from the kitchen is my dinner?"

The dining room was adjacent, and Kyle, a soft-spoken sandy-haired boy who I rarely spoke to, yelled back an affirmative. He was gravely incompetent at nearly everything, but had a surprising knack for cooking - which we were all very thankful for. 

"Assuming you've completed your work, you may go to your rooms," Mother finished. We dispersed awkwardly, most heading to the kitchen, although making sure to follow behind Mother, and I took Catra's hand, pulling her to the corner of the room, where a hideous, but comfortable, red carpeted ledge sat beneath the bay window (the entire room was carpeted in this manner, and was 'complimented' by wallpaper consisting of purple and black waves.) Rogelio looked up, seemingly irritated, before resuming his book. 

I looked into Catra's eyes, but she was clearly acting standoffish, and broke my gaze. 

"Catra, what's up? I just pulled you over here so we could relax and enjoy dinner. You seem really.. distracted."

She fidgeted awkwardly, clearly discomfited. Finally, after I raised an eyebrow, she spoke: 

"Adora, you _are_ aware that Weaver doesn't actually like you, right?" 

I sighed. "We've had this conversation before.. Catra, just because she's awful to you - and she is, that doesn't mean she does-"

"Doesn't appreciate my help," she finished flatly. "Have you ever actually asked yourself why she doesn't extend her _common courtesy_ to me though, Adora? Like, am I not a fucking person too?" 

" _Of course you are,_ I don't know why she doesn't treat you like it! I really don't. But she does genuinely like me and you can't take that away from me.." 

Catra's voice hitched. " _Away_ from you!? Are you being fucking serious?" She took a moment to collect her voice - though a few cracks still broke through. "Are, are you being real right now, Adora? You do her FUCKING chores and that's it! How can you have a _shred_ of love for her when she ABUSES me every day!"

I blinked away the tears that were starting to form, and croaked out, "but it's true.. she is nice to me! That's just true! It's fine! All it means is you have someone to cover you-"

"Fuck you," Catra snarled, and stormed out of the room, stomping up the stairs furiously. I pretended not to hear her yelling and the **_thunk_** of her fist hitting the wall, and Mother promptly barking at her. 

I knew we would return to our status quo in a few days or so, when Catra would have calmed down, but our fights never stopped feeling raw in the moment. Another night where we traded crying in the dark for spending the evening together. 

I understood why Catra was so volatile, I really did, but I just couldn't wrap my mind around why she felt the need to project it onto other people - namely, me. 

Regardless, we rarely actually talked through our fights. There was no reason to - we had only eachother; it was as if we were bound together in life. She was my reason for carrying on, and any disagreements we had were insignificant compared to our drive to one day leave and make our own life together. Catra was more eager to leave, of course, but I would follow her anyway. Even if it meant displeasing Mother. 

* * *

The next morning, I awoke after a fitful sleep in my room. I shared it with Lonnie, Glimmer, and an eternally cheerful girl named Scorpia - Catra technically had no assigned sleeping location, and Mother turned a blind eye to her occupation of the upstairs sun room - but whenever Mother was going to spend the night at work, we would usually sleep together, whether in my room, or 'hers.' Lonnie would grumble about it, but we both knew she would never bother to snitch. Catra preferred for me to sleep in the sun room with her, because I cared little about the 'hardness' of a sleeping location, but the thinness of my mattress was intolerable to her, although she would occasionally bear it in order to be able to sleep next to me. After cleaning myself up, and a few morning exercises, I headed downstairs for breakfast. We almost always had a rather watery soup, but I was always allowed more typical breakfast foods in addition, namely eggs and bacon. The other wards were resentful, but whenever she caught their grumblings, Mother would reprimand them with a lecture about how I needed my strength in order to carry out all the physically-demanding chores, and, if she was feeling particularly frustrated, a diatribe about how essential I was to the running of this house and _howunhelpfulallyoulittlebratsarewherewouldIbewithoutmydarlingAdorayouchildrenareluckyIdidn'tleaveyouintheorphanageswhereIfoundyou_.

Luckily though, today was quiet, probably because everyone was even more reluctant to test the waters with small talk than usual, considering Mother had subjected Catra to an epic hour-long dressing down concerning her yelling at me, punching the wall, and probably a number of other grievances that had nothing to do with our fight yesterday. After sitting sheepishly in the living room for a bit afterwards, sniffling quietly, I had grown tired of listening to them fight and went outside to sit on the porch.

The silence was not completely unbearable, given as Mother always insisted on playing her favorite records during breakfast. Eventually Scorpia and Glimmer struck up a conversation about the latest book they had both read. I focused mostly on my breakfast, trying to avoid the occasionally glances Catra sent my way, though for the most part she was trying just as hard to dodge making eye contact. 

After we were all finished, Mother allowed us to be dismissed. She hooked her finger at me. "Adora, meet me in my office after cleaning up the table please." 

I replied with a "yes ma'am," and then joined the others in cleaning up our respective dishes. Mother had already headed to her office, so I walked down the main hallway alone. The walls were adorned with electric lamps, but like most other utilities in our home, whether or not they worked was up to chance. Banked by rooms on all sides, the only natural light let in came from the end. Today the lights were flickering dimly, so I had to be careful with my step - the hallway had wooden flooring, clashing rather badly with the carpeting Mother was so fond of, so it was adorned with an eclectic collection of long rugs she had gathered over the years, which were easy to trip on. I did not intend to talk with Mother while sporting a broken nose. 

At the end of the hall, on the lefthand side, was her office. The walls were well-maintained, unlike the rest of the house, and clad with a rich, dark wood. The floor was covered with a massive rug, patterned exquisitely and colored purple, red, and black. Two of the walls featured bookshelves the length of the room, which were fully stocked with a wide array of books, though I knew from cursory glances at the titles that the occult was a common theme, in keeping with Mother's employment as a medium. Mother herself sat in a grand cushioned chair at the end of the room, slightly backlit by two tall windows with their curtains drawn (presumably for my benefit, as she preferred it dark,) that offered a view of our side yard. She was flanked by a magnificent mahogany desk covered with a menagerie of bottles filled with various ingredients, open books, discarded sheets of paper, a number of gemstones and minerals, and a number of miscellaneous baubles. Catra particularly hated the miniature gargoyle statue. Mother however seemed very fond of the motif, and the ceramic gargoyle head that adorned the top of the wall behind her was a testament to this. 

"Adora," she drawled. "Very well. I am sure you know what we will be discussing today."

I fidgeted nervously. I had an idea. 

"Dear, I know what a.. handful Catra is, but is it truly that impossible to keep your little _friend_ in line?" 

"She doesn't always listen to me-"

"I am aware," Mother interrupted. "That is our problem. That girl has no gratitude. If it was not for my own kindness, she would still be the runt of that decrepit orphanage I found her in."

I was unsure how to respond, so I just nodded along agreeably. 

"Now she has you to protect her. She appreciates you, _Adora,_ for that. But the woman who clothes her, who feeds her? Not a scrap. Why do you think that is, Adora?"

"Honestly, I have no clue, but _I_ appreciate you." I did. I really did. 

"I know, darling, but she cannot hide behind your good nature forever. In fact, I am more concerned for you than I - last night, she was furious at you, and all because you have the _decency to be a courteous girl._ " Her voice almost took on a whisper at the end. "I am concerned for you, Adora, because I love you. I have seen the way she looks at you. She loves you like the dearest friend. But Adora, my Adora," she began to snarl, "she is a _hateful_ child. She will always hurt the things she loves the most, if she is even capable of love."

"That's not true," I cut in tersely. I continued before she could admonish me for my rudeness. "She just has.. anger issues. She's a wonderful person deep down.. please just be patient with her. I promise. She's just rough around the edges, that's all." I mumbled an apology for my interruption at the end, my discomfort with the way Mother was speaking of Catra rapidly turning into shame.

Although the doubtful raise of her eyebrows told the full story, Mother just sighed. "Very well. But should she continue to take her anger out on you, Adora, I will have to begin to question my own charity. And perhaps one day you will truly understand how she treats me. Just know that I am only so patient with her due to my respect for _you._ Please do your best to keep her in line." 

I looked her in the eyes, doing my best to sound confident. "I will. I promise. Please trust me." 

At that she tutted, her voice syrupy. "Oh I do, I do, darling. You may excuse yourself."

I wasn't fully aware of how quickly my heart was beating, or the marks left by my nails nervously scratching at my palm, until I had collected myself in the twilight of the hallway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yano i tagged this as partially fluff bc theres going to be a lot of cute catradora moments but like.. honestly its mostly going to just be shadow weaver acting like an imperious binch and adora being obliviously complicit


	3. A Picnic, and Meeting Bow

It took until the end of the week for Catra to finally speak to me, but when she did, it was as though nothing had happened, and we were quickly hitting it off again.

The cold front had passed, and we decided to enjoy the pleasant autumn day by having a picnic.

Our home was in a fairly isolated, rural stretch of land, but the overall geography of our region was mixed - we were within an hours drive of several major towns, where Mother would ply her trade. She rented a physical location in the largest of them, where she regularly met with clients, but the income earned there was not enough to maintain our household, even as frugally as we lived, so she would travel the area to find further customers. This was the cause for her extended absences. 

Our favorite spot was a weeping willow that was, by Catra's estimation, around five miles from home. To reach it, we had to traverse through the forest and scrub, and a river, but I enjoyed the physical exertion, and for Catra the isolation and the challenge of the location was key to its appeal. Although going far from home was strictly forbidden, Mother had resigned herself to Catra taking advantage of her absences to go on 'adventures." However, I knew she was much more strict about this rule when it involved me - but she said nothing. She knew I could take care of myself, and that my good behavior was partially informed by being able to spend time with Catra, even if it involved riskier behavior than she would approve of.

We set off around noon, having spent a few hours preparing the food we needed - several Belgian waffles, an assortment of fruits, a plethora of sandwiches, two soft drink bottles for Catra, and a large flask of water for me. It was fairly warm, but there was a healthy breeze. The journey usually took around two hours, around an hour longer than we might have been were we not hampered by the uneven, wild terrain. I made sure to wear a thick pair of pants to minimize the inevitable irritation caused by struggling through tree branches and thorns, and my favorite jacket for the same reason. Being a bit hot was less of a price to pay than digging plant miscellaneous out of my legs. 

Even though it meant struggling through untamed nature, I very much enjoyed the walk. I enjoyed the outdoors, and Catra's company even more. It almost felt like a sort of pilgrimage, but to a _spot only we knew_. One without Mother, or the outside world, or any worries. The furrow of Catra's brows whenever we had to ford the river never failed to make me smile. 

Today, the walk there was quiet; I was still nervous to speak given how poorly our last interaction had gone. The playful smirks Catra sent me whenever I tripped over a fallen branch put my worries firmly to rest. 

Catra didn't speak until we reached our destination. The weeping willow stood at the end of a clearing; the trees ringing the open space formed a sort of green wall, markedly shadier. We always sat directly under the willow itself, where there was more than enough shade, but also a grassy area free of shrubbery. The leaves of the willow looked so pretty with sunlight reflecting off of them, and I was so caught up in the beauty that although I heard Catra speak, my brain was at a loss as to what the actual content was. 

"Adora, I'm talking to you."

I looked back apologetically. "I'm sorry. I was uh, distracted. By the tree." 

She just rolled her eyes. "God, you're such a dork, you know that?" 

I grinned. "Yeah, you've told me once or twice." 

She tousled my hair and took my hand, pulling me towards the willow. "I wanna sit down. My ankles itch like hell." 

Even though she couldn't have seen it, walking in front of me as she was, I made a _look_. "Catra, you're literally wearing loafers, what did you think was gonna happen?" 

"That my ankles would feel like shit but my feet wouldn't?" 

"Fair enough," I chuckled. "You're a dork." 

I yelped as she kicked me with the back of her foot, but made sure to call her a jerk too. 

We reached our spot, and Catra flopped on to the ground dramatically, immediately going to work at scratching her ankles. Her nails were long and unkempt. I sighed. "Catra, you're just going to keep scratching until your ankles are raw. And you'll still be itchy." 

She glared at me. "I can deal with that later. This feels good now. No one has as much self control as you. Heyyy, I know you've been carrying the basket, but you're strong as fuck, sooo.. can you please give me a back rub?" 

I raised my eyebrows, smirking. "You know, you really like to act like you're not, but you are _such_ a princess." I sat down next to her, and pulled a sandwich out of our basket. "Let me eat first and I will."

I was sure that she tolerated the _princess_ remark and kept her mouth shut entirely to make sure she would get her back rub. Catra may not have acted very grateful towards Mother, but she was more than willing to show me her gratitude. Thinking about it, I did find it odd that Catra would reign her attitude in with me, and not for the woman responsible for her livelihood, but I supposed she must have thought that I had earned her softer side, and Mother had not. 

We ate in silence for a bit - we were far too busy stuffing our mouths to speak - and when we were finished, Catra rolled over onto her stomach, fittingly reminding me of a cat. I moved over to her, and started with her shoulders. 

It was during moments like these when the line between our friendship and the dark, writhing, unknowable _other_ was thinnest. I didn't need to understand my feelings in order to appreciate them, even if the irresistible draw I felt towards her scared me. I could if I wanted to, but I didn't _need_ to tell her. The intensity and uniqueness of our relationship was something special, and both of us knew it. So we carried on. We had eachother, every day, so what was the point in clarifying _how_ exactly we needed eachother? Our need was thoroughly satisfied. 

After a while, my arms began to ache, but I was too caught up in my obligation to make her feel good to care. Catra looked fully relaxed, her cheek pressed against the grass, and for a second I was worried she might have fallen asleep, but her irritated spasm as a bug landed on her nose proved otherwise. She had been basking in the attention for however many minutes I had been massaging her, but I knew she would thank me eventually. I was always happy to serve, as long as I got validation from it. She knew that, and gave my hand a squeeze. That was enough. 

"We're gonna have to leave early today," she mumbled. "Leaving so late was a bad idea, but the waffles were worth it. I don't want to get up. I reaaallly don't. God. 'S mom going to be out tonight?" 

I was a little taken aback by Catra's choice of words. She had never referred to Mother as 'mom' before, but she seemed on the verge of falling asleep, so I assumed her brain wasn't quite processing normally. "Yes, but _Catra_ , we _cannot_ sleep in the forest.. I really can't express how much we aren't doing that."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "You're so boring. It's just camping.." 

I wrung my hands. "Camping without camping supplies. Trust me, we don't want to sleep on the ground. And what if it rains? Or there's animals and we have to fight them!? Not that I couldn't scare them off, probably, but I really do NOT like to idea of being eaten while sleeping, and it's going to get COLD when its dark, and-" 

"Adora, it's fine-" 

"-and did it occur to you that the others would just TELL Mother that we didn't come back for an entire day?" 

"Adora. It's fine. Calm down. Lonnie isn't a snitch, and Glitter is stuck up but if you _very nicel_ y asked her to hold her tongue-" 

"Look, I'm sorry, I know you want to do something new, but I just don't! Okay! We really can't do this, do I need to list all the reasons again?" 

Catra made a sort of irritated, low pitched whine. "Fine. But can I please just get a nap in before we head back? Obviously you can't, someone's gotta stay awake, but I really want to. Please? Also, can you do my shoulders again? I wanna relax." 

I huffed, mostly in jest, and did as she asked. I really did need to learn to say no to her, but she acquiesced on the important thing, so I was willing to spend another 10 minutes of my time teasing out her muscles some more. After a bit she finally drifted off, and I laid down next to her, taking care to keep my eyes open. I couldn't let myself fall asleep, but I would be lying if I didn't also appreciate the way the sunlight brought out her freckles. 

* * *

When I woke up, it was sunset. _Fuck_. _FUCK_. 

Catra, bless her, was still asleep. I pawed at her shoulder, more roughly than I intended. She made a string of indignant noises, and yawned. 

"Ugh, Adora, stoppp.. don't fucking touch me." 

"You need to wake up. It's literally nearly nightfall, and we're alone! In the woods! It's _night!_ "

Catra sat up, looked around, and yawned again. "Mmh, oh shit, yeah. Huh. Shit." 

"No kidding." I was frowning, but I was angry at myself. How could I have screwed up so badly? This was all my fault. 

"What are we going to do!? This is so bad, oh God, this is so bad." 

Catra ran her fingers through her bangs, rubbed at her eyes, and stretched. "Okay, I'm up now. Right. Uhh. You won't like if if I say that it'll be fine and we'll figure something out. I mean, I wanted to just sleep in the woods anyway, so there's no obstacle to just going back to sleep, right? You're not gonna be eaten by wolves." She smiled and poked my nose with her finger. 

I, however, was sullen. "Catra, I didn't _want_ to sleep in the goddamn forest!" 

She sarcastically clicked her tongue. "Taking the Lord's name in vain, shame, shame. I didn't expect blasphemy from you, Adora." 

"This isn't funny-" 

"We're stuck in the woods, right? Shouldn't we have some fun? There's no way we could even _try_ to find out way home, or anywhere else, so. I really would prefer it if you weren't neurotic and angry all night." 

I picked up a small branch and began snapping off segments of it, breathing deeply. "Okay. I'm focusing. I do think we should at least try to find someone's place - I know there's people who live close to here. If we get moving now, we should have enough time to hopefully find someone's property-" 

"And what, get shot? No thank you. Oh, and more importantly, _how the fuck would we find our place back to home at all if we can't retrace our steps back to here when we don't find anyone_? We don't have that much light." 

She had a point. I thought on it. "Okay, meet in the middle. We try to find someone's place, and if we don't by, say, the middle of twilight, we come back here." 

Catra shrugged. "Alright, sure, but-"

"Your reservations have been noted. Let's go." I stood up, grabbed the picnic basket, took a second to brush myself off, and began a brisk walk across the clearing. 

Catra was yelling something like _ohmygodadorarelaxthisisntamarathon_ but I ignored her, and began making my way down the gently sloping earth into the forest. Catra would catch up. 

* * *

It turned out that this segment of the woods was much steeper than the rest of it, and as we carefully descended an incline knotted with roots, I took her hand to help keep us steady. The sunlight was fading fast, and despite my feverish pace, dragging an indignant Catra along behind me, I was nearly ready to turn back. "Okay, Catra. I want to finish getting down this slope and walk for a bit. Just to see. Then we can turn around." 

She didn't have much of a choice in the matter, and as the incline became flatter beneath our feet, I increased my pace, almost to a light jog, as we emerged into a less shrubby wooded area. I could actually run, as long as I was careful to keep an eye on the ground. I turned to Catra, and said, "you can wait here, if you want. I just want to run ahead. I just want to see. If I can't make a straight line back, I'll come back at that point."

She sighed. "'Kay, but-"

I was already off, taking some satisfaction in hearing the fallen leaves snap underneath my feet. 

I jogged for several minutes, and the trees just continued. I was about to turn around, when I caught sight of distant movement through the branches to my right. A person. I ran towards him. I could come back for Catra if I talked to him, and he would help us. If he didn't, I'd just turn back. As I approached, I could see that he was raking leaves. The crunching of my step finally drew his attention, and he looked up from his work. 

The boy had brown skin, and hair that almost seemed purple. Perhaps it was the lighting. Although he had an open-mouthed, puzzled look on his face, even from this distance, I could tell that his face radiated _warmness_. It would be presumptuous to assume he would help I just because I thought he looked friendly, but it was reassuring nonetheless. I inhaled and spoke.

"Why are you raking leaves?" 

His mouth opened even more, and I tried my best to clarify what I meant. "Uh, I mean, this is a forest. Why are you raking leaves? This isn't a yard. I was just confused." 

Finally, he smiled, and I felt like a little less of an absolute idiot. "This _is_ my yard. We don't have a fence." 

"How do you tell where your yard ends?" I asked dumbly. 

"I dunno, I just have a feel for it. My parents know where the exact line is. I just estimate."

"Ah." I mentally chastised myself for my lack of social skills. "Oh, right, uh. Oh gosh. Okay, so. My um, friend and I, we got.. lost in the woods. Really. We were just taking a walk and then we napped and fell asleep and now we're lost and it's nightfall and we can't find our way back to our home and I hate to be such a burden on you, given as you're a stranger and all, but we really do need help and I was just wondering if you would help." 

He looked concerned, and also a bit confused. "Hey, don't worry, it's fine. I'm going to help you. My name is Bow." 

"I'm Adora. I'm sorry for being such a mess." 

"Hey, hey, it's fine. I'd be stressed if I was lost in the woods. You guys can stay at my place for the night. I'm sure my folks would drive you back if they could, but they're really busy tonight, and early-sleepers too. The worst combination, huh?" 

His little joke made me chuckle a little, but the confused look on his face was back.

"Adora? Um, is that your friend?" He was pointing in my direction.

I squealed as I turned around and was face to face with Catra, smirking devilishly. She gave him a wave. "Hey."

Although my heart was still pounding, I forced a smile. "Um, yes, this is my friend. My best friend." Catra punched me in the arm affectionately. 

Bow chuckled. "Well, you two come with me. Our yard is big, but not that _big_ , so it'll be a short trip."

Catra and I shared a look. I could tell she was just as nervous as I was. It had been so many years since we had been in anyone's home but Mother's, if the orphanages we had spent part of our lives in counted as a home, and here we were, about to stay in the home of a complete, if affable, stranger. If this boy didn't murder us, Mother certainly would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a mess like what happened at the end like the dialogue is so choppy and awkward, tbf ive been up for a day tho so my brain is kinda fried 
> 
> anyway adora is such an awkward dork and i love her


	4. Aluminum, Sequins, Glitter, and Other Eyesores (Catra POV, flashback)

**_6 months prior_ **

I was very much above imagining Glimmer dead, and was in fact very busy attempting, and failing, to knit a blanket. 

My eyes betrayed me, and they ended up soaking in the audiovisual bile, as Adora affectionately helped Glimmer tease out the knots in her insufferably, impossibly _sparkly_ hair. I was curious if her insides were just as glistening.

Frankly, I was unsure if doing all of the things I so wanted would even be fair game - Glimmer seemingly had the emotional maturity of a toddler, as was evident by her utter delight from such a childish activity. Being unapologetically simple was so much better of a look on Adora. 

On every single afternoon prior to this, Adora and I would be discovering new nooks and crannies in the house, exploring nature together, playing a card game, or just relaxing eachothers' arms. Instead, a strange girl with cotton candy hair and an absolutely unbelievable name had showed up at our door, because her mother with a still-insufferable-but-more-believable name had _very_ _tragically died_ , and now she got to live with an old family friend, who just so happened to also run a foster home. It was all so precious. She was just like those cartoon princesses I so loved to tease Adora by comparing her to, only at least _they_ had the decency to be spoiled and brainless without butting into anyone else's lives. 

No, Glimmer was more like a conniving witch, a mistress of evil. Adora was far too kind and trusting, and now this serpent of a girl was earning her affection simply by existing in our home and having a sad story. Adora thought she was a new friend, because of course she was - poor, affectionate, _helpful_ Adora - but I saw through her glamour. Seeing her work her talons into Adora made me want to jump up and start screaming _howcouldadorabefuckingplayingaroundwiththisobviousintrudersheswrongshessowrongshesstealingyoufrommecantyouseeshehasbadintentionshowcantyouseehowwrongthisisshestakingyoufromme!_ But I had all the time in the world.

She had arrived on our doorstep, looking like one of Miss Weaver's uncanny figurines - the grotesque lines on her face as she smiled were far more horrifying to me than any of the glass clowns Weaver was so fond of - and in a more perfect world, she would have been just as easy to shatter. I considered making a crass remark speculating on her sexual impropriety, but the thought of Glitter being even laying a finger on another human being - was she a human being, though? - made me genuinely want to throw up. The sight of Adora so close to her, and _smiling_ no less, made me consider saying 'yes' to Scorpia's monthly offers of drawing lessons. Knitting was a profoundly shit way of expressing rage.   
  
Anyway, she had arrived on our doorstep demanding _our_ hospitality - she came here, into _our fucking house_ , a little, pinchable, snide fucking invader - she came into _my home_ , to ruin everything I found even remotely tolerable about my life. I immediately knew she was here to steal Adora away from me, and the horror of it left me breathless for a bit, until I grounded myself by reconsidering the logistics of all the most successful murders. 

Of all my positive traits, my honesty was the one that caused the most problems. It took a great deal of effort, but I managed to keep my mouth shut, and even make a mental note to, for once, keep my thoughts from Adora. She had told me in the past that my 'defensiveness drove people away from me' - which sounded unworthy of my consideration - so instead my concern was based on the pain it would cause to see Adora cry, because of me. My charity truly was bottomless. There was a charm in that, though, wasn't there? If anyone should make Adora cry, it should be me. The danger was that instead of running to me to stitch all her wounds back together, she might run to someone else - _Sparkles_ especially - so given this possibility, the murder plan seemed the most reasonable.

Covering up a homicide took up far less mental energy than attempting to understand the minefield of human relationships. Adora would get over it - loss was an inevitable part of life, and we all need to experience it eventually. It was so incredibly unfair that adults never called me "wise beyond my years" and instead referred to me as "a juvenile delinquent" and "a threat to society." Becoming caught up in a suspected homicide would likely make them feel validated in their suspicions, but I based exactly zero of my decisions on the opinions of others. Maybe Adora. Maybe. 

Still, I would inevitably be the main suspect if-and-when Glimmer mysteriously disappeared, and being yelled at daily, as opposed to weekly, by Weaver was a very good deterrent. The mental image of a priest attempting to convert me on the electric chair was very amusing. 

So as I blinked out of my stupor, noticing how mangled my knitwork had gotten while I daydreamed, and began to focus on righting it, while I found a more easygoing train of thought, and imagined how wonderful it would be if Glimmer simply disappeared from my life. Perhaps in some fume-filled laboratory, scientists were on the verge of discovering time travel. 

A lesser woman than me would have considered new, novel ways to rip Glimmer's limbs off. I was very much above that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catra knitting is a bit out of character but cat joke
> 
> this chapter is short af but imo it works better as a short mood piece, writing neurotically abandonment-fearing, childishly murderous catra is rlly fun and im stumped on how to continue on from the previous chapter sooo i did this instead lmao


	5. The Library House

As it turned out, Bow was not a murderer. 

Catra's fears, at the very least, had been put to rest definitively after digging in to the macaroni and cheese that he had cooked furtively in the kitchen. She had to be mindful of her exclamations, lest we wake Bow's parents, but couldn't help but let out a few happy noises nonetheless. It practically sounded like she was purring, and, oddly, I found myself smiling at the thought. 

My anxieties were not so easily put to rest. Although it had been entirely my idea to attempt to find another home, it had seemed to be that it would be safer for us, and would look less suspicious to the others (at least, I had thought that at the time; in retrospect, being caked in mud would, if someone snitched, be less offensive to Mother than the idea of us being close enough with a stranger to stay at their home.) I supposed there was no point to worrying, but I couldn't help but feel I was woefully unequipped to make the best decisions for others. Better than Catra, maybe. But I didn't _enjoy_ it. I couldn't help but suspect that my perfect world would be filled with domineering adults like Mother. From what Glimmer had told me, her late mother filled the role, albeit with far gentler of a touch. 

Really, all of this was my fault for letting us get carried away with the massage, and the subsequent nap. I needed to stop enabling Catra's irresponsible behavior - if we hadn't fallen asleep, none of this would have been of any concern. Still, looking at the dimples in her cheeks as she scarfed down her meal, I knew there was no way I could have turned down her request. This was precisely why I could never fill Mother's role. 

The knowledge that this outcome could not have been helped, except for forces outside my control (namely an aptitude for even lighter sleeping,) did little to calm the worry gnawing at my stomach. We were in direct violation of Mother's gravest rule, and not only was my status as her favorite at stake, but the punishment she was willing to inflict on Catra would be more severe than it had ever been should she find out. Of course, even if she didn't, I would feel guilty anyway. 

* * *

I had experienced plenty of dreams like this before. Gripping Catra tight, my nose pressed against her neck, my arms around her wiry body. It took me a bit to register when I was no longer dreaming, and also that my fingers were intertwined with hers. Thankfully, she was still blissfully asleep (her snores really were awful, but I didn't mind.) Of all the facets of life that overwhelmed me - responsibility, cooking, falling asleep - the one I was worst at was probably handling embarrassment. Sleeping was high on the list, however, and though I appreciated her form shifting with each intake of breath, and her face, so placid and innocent, I felt myself becoming inevitably antsy, and carefully extracted myself from the bed. I took extra care to avoid tripping on an unfamiliar piece of furniture, and slipped out of the guest bedroom. 

The main room was pitch black, and I found myself missing the moonlight filtering through our window. I stumbled in the dark, attempting to locate a lamp. I felt a bit stranger making myself so at home in someone else's home, but without turning on a light, I would probably trip over a desk and wake up the entire house. I found one, and took a moment to appreciate the sight. 

The house was absolutely magnificent. The bulk of the building was made up of a single room, ringed with a second floor, and every wall clad in bookshelves and display cases. It was open, airy, and well maintained - immaculate, even. The space was welcoming, but didn't quite feel lived in to me. I grew a bit anxious now that I was certain that, in fact, the world outside seemed so much bigger and better than the orphanages and decaying home I had known my whole life. It was odd, but I was still thankful for its difference - primarily for the book collection this grand place hosted. Even with all the work I did at home, I still found the time to read as much as I could get my hands on, and that well had long dried up. I had spent far too much time reading and re-reading works advocating for Gnosticism, and works critiquing it. I was in the most wonderful library I had ever stepped foot in - well, the only one, unless one were to count the collection of dusty tomes in Mother's office - and was determined to make the most of it. I chose to peruse the shelf closest to the lamp I was using, for conveniences sake, and also to save on electricity. I began to thumb through the volumes, and was very amused to come across a pulpy speculative fiction novel, its cover overrun with far too underdressed barbarian-types, in the grand library of such devoted academics. 

I was startled out of my mirth by an unfamiliar voice. 

A man, who I presumed must be one of Bow's parents, smiled at me. He seemed kindly. I realized with some amusement that this man was the spitting image of one of heroes on the cover of the novel I still held, albeit with darker skin. The mustache, though, was identical. 

"Mind if I take a look?" 

I handed the book over to him immediately, feeling sheepish. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't be up, and its your library, I just couldn't sleep and I w-" 

He placed his hand on my shoulder, and smiled reassuringly. "A friend of Bow's is a friend of mine. Mind sharing your name?" 

"Um, Adora." 

"And I'm George." He shook my hand, and then angled the novel's cover so it would be well-lit. "Let's see here. You know, you aren't half wrong! How funny. I think you're on here too, though." He pointed out a scandalously-clad blonde warrior, and I wrinkled my nose at her incredibly impractical armor. I did appreciate her sword though, and told George as much. 

He raised his arms, admiring his own library - which I could not fault him for. "If you're interested in swords, we have them - we don't just have books here, you know. But we do have darn near every book you could be interested in." 

I imagined the glow in my eyes resembled Catra's upon being told I would participate in her mischief. 

* * *

The light blue hues of morning were visible outside, and I still hadn't exhausted the family's artifact collection. There was a depiction of yet another blonde warrior with a dragon, which I was very fond of, and all the swords that they had promised to show me, and more. Edged weapons less convenient than knives weren't exactly Catra's forte, but I was sure I could find a way to keep her interested. Maybe she would put up with my enthusiasm just to please me. I hoped she wouldn't, though. 

"So, how's your girlfriend?" 

I nearly dropped the sword I was cradling, and apologized profusely for my clumsiness before blurting out a response. "Um, no, she's not my girlfriend," I laughed nervously. "She's um, my roommate, I suppose?" 

I did not appreciate his knowing smile. 

"I don't mean to put words into your mouth, Adora. That was just an impression. Although," he smiled wistfully, "I like to think I can spot that kind of love when I see it."

"Your partner?"

"Yeah, my partner His name's George. We're different in many ways, but at the end of the day, he's the one I want to be doing research with." 

I couldn't help but smile at how happy he was, even if the bit about them being different, but dedicated, unnerved me. 

George told me that he'd best go cook breakfast, and I went back to the guest room to wait with Catra. I wanted to leave as soon as possible, but knew she would absolutely not abide passing up breakfast. She seemed to still be asleep, but as I went to rouse her, she opened an eye and smirked. "You really are bad at social cues, Adora. My legs are crossed. How the fuck would I sleep like that? Dummy." 

"I am _not_. Why should I learn my lesson when you're so prone to oversleeping?" 

"Dunno, use your eyes. Were they distracted by my divine looks, or something?" 

"Please don't tease me," I croaked. 

"Hey, Bow said they have orange juice. I'm thirsty as hell, and you sound like you're coming down with the plague." 

She took my hand, and we walked off to enjoy our first breakfast outside of home in years. 

It was bizarre. I had no idea breakfast could be so... informal. No waiting turns to speak, no fear of speaking, for that matter - no shadow being cast over the whole meal by Mother. It was unnerving. How could these men - I had met Lance when pancakes were served - still act as parents, but maintain such a loose and friendly attitude around Bow? He spoke to them like they were old friends, albeit with a lot more manners, and much less cursing, than what might have been expected. We shared food without the fear of bumping into eachother, and making a conspicuous mess that would no doubt be the source of a disappointed lecture; we joked and talked about the weather with genuine interest, rather than as an occasional ploy to fill the overwhelming silence with something marginally less awkward. And above all, the food wasn't caked in a fine layer of grease. 

* * *

Saying our goodbyes was harder than I had thought it would be. The pressure to return home as soon as possible was still there, of course, but I was surprised by how _close_ I had grown to these former strangers, in just a night. They hadn't tried to hurt us, or lead us astray at all; they had been charitable and kind, far more than would have been required. We hadn't had time to really get to know them, but I wished we had. 

I surprised even myself when I spoke. "Um.. your hospitality has been so wonderful; you guys are lovely people. I wanted to ask, erm, if, someday in the future, we might be able to come visit? Maybe?" 

The whole family smiled, and spoke over eachother in a rush of 'of courses' and 'absolutelys,' moving to embrace us - I was surprised to see Catra tolerate it, but she mostly seemed pleasantly surprised that I was even floating the idea of disobeying Mother's rules in the future. I made sure to add further qualifiers - "I can't guarantee we'll show up soon, or perhaps even at all.. our home is, well, rather strict, and we don't spend much time on socializing. We have to work, usually. But, if we find the time." 

This time Bow stepped to the fore, a concerned look on his face. "Are you two doing alright? I don't want to make assumptions, but you _do_ seem um.. kind of in a hard situation, economically.."

His parents chastised him, but Catra just chuckled. "Yeah. You could say that." 

* * *

The drive home was surprisingly quiet. Lance was driving, and he made a few joking comments about this felled tree, or that pothole, but otherwise, Catra and I spent the short time looking out of our windows at the mess of brush and trees going past. I didn't have to talk to her about it to know that she was, in her own way, grieving, too. We had experienced the taste of a life so dissimilar to us, and instead of being frightening, it turned out to be alluring, and pleasant. I think our yearning to go back was what actually frightened us. 

Catra was right; no one snitched. She told me that we ought to find a way to procure more ingredients, so that we might make Belgian waffles more often. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rlly pleased with the oh-so-subtle masters of the universe reference
> 
> havent decided if homophobia exists in whatever time period this takes in, prolly not tho


End file.
